Man, "neck-breathin' earth gypsy" is a hell of a pejorative. There's a lot going on there -- it's a pretty concise yet poetic way of accusing someone of being an unlovable hillbilly with no concept of personal space.

This is another one of those comics that reaffirms Onstad's inability to remember that his cast is comprised of child-sized stuffed animals and housecats.

Consider what a ten inch dong means for a character less than three feet tall. Forget Ferraris -- it'd be like your neighbor owned the goddamned Death Star.

Sidenote...what does it says about T that he stood back there cowering with his dingus covered and took a wall bashing ass kicking instead of maybe getting into some kind of athletic position and trying to own the thing?

It says to me that T is a chump, a dial tone, an empty bottle smelling faintly of garlic.

Those are all very sad things to be.

Let's be fair, though -- Teodor was expressly forbidden to hold his arms out, and it's tough to imagine how he'd keep his balance without using his arms. Frankly, the most dignified thing he can do at this point is to take his wall-bashing ass-kicking without complaint and try to write off the whole event as a bad dream.

One of those bad dreams where you end up with missing teeth and a concussion.

I rather like that there isn't any confirmation message. Seems appropriate, somehow.

Our boy Charley invented toilet paper too apparently.

Not so. What you see in panels 8 and 10 is a roll of gwaelodsych (literally, arse-dryer), a specialized sort of vellum, which was introduced to Wales by Norman invaders around 1100 CE. Made from the hides of stillborn foals and prized more for its durability than for its softness, gwaelodsych was never discarded; instead, it was traditionally passed down from generation to generation, each new household giving it only a cursory rinsing before pressing it back into service.

I think it's originally from the 80s-90s video game magazine, GAMEPRO. To each review, preview, or article of any sort, they'd add "PROTIPS" in a similarly interruptive fashion. Like: "PROTIP: Link can shoot his sword when his life meter is full. Avoid getting hit!"

You nailed the distinctive "GamePro Voice" - that sort of regret-fueled condescension that can only occur when a 48-year-old man with an MA in journalism realizes he's going to be writing about Mega Man under a pen name like "Sofa King" until his liver gives out. Well done.

You take that back!

Never, sir. There's only one appropriate place for puns: immediately preceding the phrase "no pun intended," in which case they're being apologized for.

And in Family Circus, I guess, because the only people who read Family Circus are about to die anyway.

I assume he learned it from Lyle but Lyle was so drunk at the time he didn't remember.

Plausible. Lie Bot's another likely suspect, though.